


Wounds to Mend

by orphan_account



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, coarse language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In matters of heartbreak, Chase is surprisingly sympathetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wounds to Mend

**Author's Note:**

> Something small (I guess) and happy (?? I guess). Well, it's something. hahaha I'm so enamored with them but it's always so difficult to portray them.

The soft scrape of sandals resonated against columned walls as the Heylin warrior paced around the hard marble floor of his training room; _waiting, prowling._

Jack was late, _once again._

Chase had warned him every time such a thing happened that his punishment would only magnify in intensity with each punctual failure, and this was already the _fifth _time.__

Completely _unacceptable._

"Chase! Hey, Chase, I'm so sorry!" Jack came careening into the room, drenched in sweat, and panting furiously. He clutched at his chest as a vicious cough ripped through him. "I didn't mean to be so late, I'm sorry, I'm so-" Jack managed to choke out nothing further as he was quickly knocked to the ground by a hard and precise swipe from Chase's stave. The sharp tang of salt emanating from the goth man bit at the warrior's heightened senses.

_"Silence."_ The elder Heylin snarled. He stood over the younger man menacingly as Jack quivered on the cool, marble floor. "I've already explained what would happen if you continued to be late." 

A harsh jab to the stone floor caused the goth man to flinch in terror. "You are trying my patience."

"Chase, I-"

_"Spicer."_ The Heylin warrior seethed. "I don't want to hear it."

Jack snapped his mouth shut, biting his lip as his eyes began to water.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Spare me your tears, Spicer, you're a grown man." 

Jack bowed his head in shame, hiding his reddening face, catching himself before tears could begin to fall. As he stood, a practice stave was aggressively thrust into his hands, knocking the wind from his chest momentarily.

"Are we finally ready to begin?" Chase questioned. Although the warrior seemed calm, his tone was layered thick with aggravation. 

The goth man shakily nodded his head, trying his hardest to avoid the sharp bite from his master's golden gaze.

Jack was acting strange. Or at the very least, stranger than usual. His form was poor, his demeanor was frail. It was as if the younger man were made of porcelain, and one wrong hit from the powerful Heylin warrior could leave him shattered across the hard marbled floor. 

The pair could barely get through a solid hour of training, if you could even call it that, before Chase finally lost his patience, and his temper. 

_"ENOUGH."_ The Heylin warrior thrust the length of his staff into Jack's chest, knocking him to the ground for the umpteenth time. The younger man shriveled up where he lay, bruised and battered beyond belief.

It was _despicable._ The young goth had been under Chase's wing for years now, there were no excuses for this sudden display of ineptitude. The warrior hadn't seen Jack this pathetic since he had begged and pleaded to become his apprentice all those long years ago.

Chase could not, and would not believe those years had been wasted. Jack was too.. too important.

"What are you _doing?"_ The Heylin warrior seethed through gritted teeth, he tried his best to keep his voice level. He understood from experience that too much force could cause petty arguments to erupt, or in the worst case scenario, tears and a broken ego.

"We've been doing nothing but the basics, and yet you are still failing miserably. This is nothing but a warm-up-" Chase thrust his staff into a nearby training dummy, completely impaling the soft plush of its insides. "-and yet here you are, cowering on the ground like a- like an untrained _child."_

Jack quivered where he lay, his face scrunching up in despair, before finally hot tears fell from his eyes, and hoarse sobs escaped his throat.

Chase was taken aback by the sudden outburst. He grazed his eyes over the small, sobbing form of his pupil, a pang of something sympathetic ached in his chest, though it was quickly subdued the second it was caught.

"Spicer, what has gotten into you?" The older man queried, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

It took a moment before Jack could answer through his sobs. The goth man knelt before the Heylin warrior, wringing his hands through his distress.

"She- she left me."

_"What?"_ Chase questioned, his fangs clacked together in warning.

"My- my girlfriend. Br- br - br broke up with me." The younger man heaved out. Jack aggressively sniffled back mucous as he wiped at his face with his gloved hands. "I'm sorry, Chase."

Chase slowly shook his head. Despite seeing the younger man frequently, he didn't often mention his girlfriend, or rather, his _ex_ -girlfriend. More than likely because Chase abhorred frivolous chit chat and he couldn't give less of a damn about the young goth's love life. 

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

Chase quirked an eyebrow. "Ah, I see. Your _playmate."_

The younger man couldn't stop a low scowl from crossing his face. He looked up at Chase with puffy eyes and a mixture of heartbreak and anger. "I wouldn't exactly call th- three years a "playmate." His voice still hitched in his chest. "She said she was sick of m- me. She left me for some other guy who wasn't "a greasy weakling." Sh- she- she.." Jack tried hard to compose himself as sobs threatened to contort his body once again. "I just feel so worthless." He whispered, crestfallen.

"Fuck her."

"E- excuse me?" Jack's eyes widened as he looked up at the dragon warrior that loomed above him. Chase rarely ever used such foul language, let alone in such an informal way.

"I said _fuck her."_ Chase emphasized, as he bared his fangs; they seemed to glint maliciously in the light of the training room. "If this _woman,_ can't see the tremendous amount of untapped potential within you, then she is a _fool."_ The warrior swiftly decapitated the training dummy with one smooth movement of his staff, kicking the plush mass far across the room before it could even hit the cool, mottled marble of the flooring.

"She doesn't deserve you." Chase continued quietly, though his voice retained enough venom to fell an entire legion.

Jack gaped at the Heylin warrior as he turned his back to the younger man, stalking towards the rack of staves to replace his own weaponry. It took a moment for the gravity of his words to truly sink in.

"If you are not well enough for today's training, then I will allow your early dismissal. Though, I would not advise you make a habit of it." Chase had turned his gaze back towards the goth man who still sat slumped on the chilled floor. His golden eyes burned with white-hot intensity.

"N- no!" Jack quickly stood from his spot on the ground, awkwardly brushing dust and debris loose from his skinny jeans. He winced slightly as his bones ached in protest, but he bravely chose to power through the pain. "I'm ok." 

It was rare to witness such consideration from Chase, as he usually forced the goth man to train religiously whether he was up to it or not. The younger man even recalled a time when he had broken an arm during one of his invention test-runs, and the Heylin warrior had _still_ demanded that Jack come to his citadel. 

"You will not be coddled on the battlefield." The Heylin warrior had snapped at the younger man. "If you can not handle fighting while injured, then you will surely _die."_

The warrior, thankfully, had gone easier on the younger man that day, though it was clear that Jack had struggled tremendously, and the amount of sympathy Chase had towards him was minute, if there was any _at all._

Chase eyed the younger man up as his small, pale hands confidently gripped the stave that had been given to him.

"If you're sure." The warrior questioned, his voice contained a rare gentleness that always took the younger man off-guard.

"I-" Jack hesitated, reaching up to wipe away the last remaining tears that still clung to his cheeks. After glancing at his eye-liner-stained hand, the goth man clumsily attempted to rub away the makeup that was now surely smeared across his face. Embarrassment painting his cheeks a crimson hue. 

Jack let out an awkward chuckle before he was quickly silenced by two large hands gently placed on his pale face. One un-gloved thumb splayed itself on his damp cheek, while the other rested beneath his chin.

The goth man's mouth fell open slightly as Chase tilted his face upwards; golden eyes locking onto eyes that were now an even more pronounced shade of crimson due to his earlier distress. His thumb rubbed across Jack's cheeks as they began to redden even further, the Heylin warrior could feel the heat as blood pooled beneath the goth man's alabaster flesh.

Wiping away the remaining streaks of black make up, Chase affectionately stroked both thumbs across the younger man's cheeks one last time before finally pulling away, replacing the gloves that had been momentarily held beneath the dragon's-eye sash wrapped around his waist. 

Jack reeled back slightly as he was released from the intimate embrace, his head swimming with dizziness.

"A good beating might help take my mind off things." Jack managed to splutter out, awkwardly chuckling, a furious blush still spread across his fine cheeks.

Chase gave the goth man a devilish smirk as he once again retrieved his stave from the rack. "Yes, it's always a pleasure to kick your ass, Spicer."

Jack let out another loud burst of awkward laughter at the older man's choice of words as he clutched at his stomach. The younger man really did feel much better than before, and he was always glad when the normally cold and stoic warrior allowed his playful side to show.

His laughter soon subsided. The tension in the room completely erased from existence. "Did you really mean that, Chase?" Jack spoke quietly, a small smile tugging at his thin lips.

Chase smirked, thoroughly pleased that he could so easily cheer up his apprentice. "Of course. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't _mean_ it."

As despicable and manipulative as Chase was, a soft spot seemed to have opened up inside of his heart, in which Jack seemed to fit perfectly.

Another soft chuckle escaped the goth man's lips as he fondly studied the mottled patterns on the floor. His heart had swelled at the amount of pride Chase seemed to have for him, though he refused to get too choked up, lest he start bawling again. He didn't want to keep making a fool of himself in front of his master.

As he thought, the smile soon slipped from the goth man's mouth. He shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Can I ask you something?" His words were thick with hesitation. 

Chase gave him a quizzical look before nodding his head in approval.

"Have you ever gotten uh.. dumped?" The question seemed out of place to the younger man, though his curiosity bit away at him relentlessly. Chase was always so focused on training and formal matters that Jack never really got to _know_ the Heylin warrior. At least not in the way he wished he could.

Chase hummed to himself in understanding. Usually the warrior would hate to disclose such personal information, but if it would help the younger man cope, then perhaps this time he would allow it.

"Of course." Chase answered, curtly. "I was even married for many years." 

Jack visibly perked up at this response. "What happened to her?"

"She died."

Chase couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Jack's face, somewhere between shock and embarrassment, he admired how his delicate skin allowed the blood beneath his cheeks to become so enticingly visible.

"Sorry!" Jack choked out, quickly attempting to patch his blunder as Chase's laughter began to fade.

"It doesn't matter now, Spicer." His words coupled, still, with soft chuckles. "When you live as long as me, you experience immense amounts of heartbreak." The laughter ceased.

Jack shifted again. Perhaps he was delving too deep. The thought of a centuries worth of life and love, and death and hate was almost.. horrifying. "How do you deal with it?"

"Hmmm.. perhaps I'll teach you after today's training." He teased, his mood lightening once again. "I did allow _some_ of them to live." Chase flashed a malicious, toothy grin towards the goth man, earning a soft _meep_ from Jack in return.

"Now then, are you ready?" The elder Heylin flourished his staff, a small smile still tugging at his lips.

Jack furrowed his brow in determination, grinning broadly at the warrior before him. Nodding his head, he eased himself into a fighting stance, his body burning in protest.

Chase stalked his way over to the younger man, causing the goth to immediately tense, gripping his stave tightly. Jack became wary when instead of taking on a similar stance, the warrior continued his strides until he was mere inches away from the younger man. 

Jack let out a confused noise when golden, predatory eyes burned into him; and then again when he felt the warriors hand roughly grab a handful of his black tank-top, pulling the goth closer.

"Never let anyone strip you of your self worth, Spicer." Chase let out a low growl, his eyes once again burned with passionate fire. "Not your playmates, not your parents, not _me._ That is your first lesson of the day." The Heylin warrior released the quivering goth from his firm grip, quirking his sharp eyebrow as the younger man hastily nodded his head. A feral grin once again spread across the warrior's face. 

Jack soon found himself flat on his back as the larger man pinned him to the ground, his staff pressed firmly against the goth man's throat as his long black hair curtained around them both.

"Hey! No fair!" Jack yelled, squirming in protest to no avail.

"And this should only be review, _Jack-"_ The warrior continued, smoothly. Jack gasped slightly as the warrior pressed his staff down harder, careful not to crush the younger man's neck. Chase bent down as he placed a soft kiss to the younger man's lips, immediately subduing Jack's struggling. 

The elder Heylin gazed down at the goth man as his eyes widened with shock, his cheeks pooling with blood in the way Chase had grown most fond of.

_"-never_ let your guard down." He purred.

**Author's Note:**

> They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. eheheh  
> Don't follow that advice, that is not actual advice.


End file.
